The Stage: Byakuya Style
by Namimakura
Summary: It was a fact that every male in the Seireitei had, at one point, "fallen" for Matsumoto Rangiku. Byakuya knew he wasn't one of them. He couldn't be one of them. Could he? Originally Feilyn's story. Part of the Lost and Found series.
1. Chapter 1

disclaimer: i do not own bleach nor this story... it's copyright of kubo tite and feilyn... i'm just writing the same story from a different perspective... she took matsumoto, i'm taking byakuya. runs from other readers fans before they start throwing vegetables honest the next chapter's half done! i just got distracted tonight... sweatdrops i'm still trying to update sunday...

I couldn't pinpoint when exactly I started seeing her everywhere, only that suddenly, I did. I'd find myself returning to the office, knowing that there was nothing left there to complete and then my mind would gray over, blanking. A moment of non-thought perhaps. And then, suddenly, I'd be there, watching her. She would be strolling down the road, hips swaying like a high-priced courtesan, fit to be used and degraded discreetly by lesser nobles. She displayed even the right amount of skin for the job. I would find myself thinking, _Why am I here? _There was no purpose to this rambling. To this viewing of her displaying assets to the general public. It bordered on voyeurism.

I hold authority, I hold position, I hold nobility within this infrastructure. I cannot afford, for the sake of my family and myself to continue to flaunt that responsibility. Because of who I am and the captaincy I hold, I am held in an esteem above the rest. I am not meant to interact with those beneath me and those who are beneath cannot ever reach the pinnacle that I have attained.

She is of those who are beneath me.

The situation is crystal clear.

So why do I have this fixation? Why does my body disobey the clear constructs of my mind and follow her?

I don't know what I expect to find or what I expect to see, but surely there is nothing that one such as she can provide to the nobility. And I am the nobility.

And yet, despite everything thing I am, despite all the power I wield, I still cannot seem to accomplish that which I desire most. I cannot hold the love of Hisana to cherish. I cannot even hold Hisana. I could not protect my belief in the absolutism of the nobility. Nor could I see past that same absolutism to save the only living family I carry any affection for. Rukia.

During that same ryoka incident, this mere vice-captain was able to successfully assist her captain in protecting another vice-captain. She was able to confront a traitor that she had held as friend, some believed lover. Even now, her division collapsing around her, she took charge, stopped drinking and actually scrambled to complete the work her taichou was ignoring.

The connection was there. It was obvious. And yet I still refused to make it. I did not believe it. Yet I could not disbelieve it, with the evidence so clear in front of me to counter it. I'm still watching. What I was waiting for even I don't know.

I have heard talk amongst lower division members when no one else thought I was there to listen. I heard snatches even while I was climbing through ranks to obtain my captain's cloak.

It was called The Stage. Every male who ever made shinigami was said to pass through it. They call it a "rite." I call it "a stage of lustful abandon toward a woman who will never look twice in your direction." The woman had standards after all. Despite her uncouth attitude and appearance, she did not merely "sleep with anybody," as the phrase might transpire.

During all the time I spent observing her, not once had I seen anything remotely resembling a tryst, though truthfully, it was probably because she was far too busy rescuing her division. This did not mean however, that I had in any way disregarded her previous drunken nature.

To conclude my earlier summary, it was clear that amongst the male members of shinigami, it was viewed as practically a rite of passage to "fall in love" with Matsumoto Rangiku.

I knew for a fact that such a thing could not be happening to me. It could never happen to me. After all, there was nothing that could come of it, my being a noble and her being-not. Not only that but such a stage did not really exist. The way I viewed it, this Stage acted only as an outlet for other males to express appreciation of a beautiful body while realizing that they themselves could never have it.

They were disgusting.

I do not debase myself in such a manner as these vermin do, pretending to love. Despite my outward expression of stoicism, I do understand emotions. I do not feel this lust that others have. On the contrary, I find her body, though beautiful, to be uncivilized. She exerts no self-control in its appearance, only allows to be displayed in licentious ways to the crowd. She practically begs for the lustful attention she receives. Yet she doesn't embrace the passes she is subjected to. She puts her work first.

There were several inconveniences to being Kuchiki Byakuya. One being that my nature is such that it refused to be subjected to outside scrutiny and advice. Certainly I could venture forth to my vice-captain and confide a personal question. However, if I were to do so, I could easily believe that he would initially stare at me blankly and then most probably slide to the floor, utterly unconscious. Nor did I inspire confidences from others. To a certain degree, this was my preferred state of being. I definitely did not enjoy enduring the useless prattling of petty problems. And whatever considerations that might arise from me would certainly be none of their concern. Still, as a result, there was no one from whom I could request or seek advice, which, at this time, would have been relatively advantageous.

I found myself in a situation I never would have anticipated. A Kuchiki in desperate need of not only advice, but a method of escape for the rapidly descending quagmire. And in filtering through the options, the list was appallingly short. I could not, in any way, ever approach a member of my division. That was information they had no business being privy to, nor would they regard it in the proper light. I could not question any member of the noble family as I already knew their response. It was the one I was continuously reminding myself. Who did that even leave?

At the moment there were none to consider. At such times the only real thing to do was to confide in those who could no longer reveal what had been whispered. I went to visit Renji's grave.

xXx

The wind was gusting through nearby branches when I arrived late in the afternoon, work completed. I stared down at his gravestone, uncertain how, where or even if to begin.

"Renji." The word seemed to float on the wind, an airy addition to a deathly silence.

I visited Renji's grave only rarely, in truth. It was awkward, conversing with the dead when a wall of guilt stood between us. Words that had never been said, and questions left unanswered.

A mistake to come here. I had nothing left to say to this boy.

A boy who saved my life.

A boy with enough strength and power to stop someone I couldn't. Someone I didn't.

It was almost harder to turn away then it was to say nothing to his empty grave.

The wind continued to blow.

xXx

It was interesting to reflect on, how many graves there were now for me to visit. How many we had lost, especially in the war. Must I continue to count the losses? I was only lucky that Rukia was not among their number. That a ryoka would be willing to make a sacrifice I was unable to, to risk when I was too conflicted to make a move. Yet they were continuing to die. It was clear that the tenth division captain would reach a breaking point soon, for better or worse. Would we lose another?

I knelt to Hisana's shrine, whispering my thoughts to her as I had done once before, late at night. I could still feel it, even now, the love I felt for her. I had thought she felt the same, that maybe if she could have reached further down, we might have found a special joy together. Something that would have brought meaning to my purposeless existence. A reason other than continuing a noble lineage or becoming the most powerful figure within the Seireitei, neither of which meant anything to me, except in terms of my family. But even to the end, all she held for me was a deep gratitude and an empathy so deep she could never leave my side. Almost a guilt for the ways in which I carefully protected her.

"Hisana."

The silence of the night was my only answer. But, it was the only one I had expected to receive.

"I know the mistakes I've made. I know what I subjected you to. I know, ultimately, that it was that which led to your death. How can I justify repeating the past?"

Something was happening here. I couldn't quite name it, but there was a definite feeling on the air.

"What kind of person is she? You always held yourself with grace. You always treated others with respect. You had a strength that denied others when they rejected you. When I knew you, met you, loved you, you were always kind. It didn't matter who, when, or where, you always had time for them. It didn't even matter how they treated you. You could have been born of the nobility, had no training, and excelled at it in ways the elders could not compare. But you still could not outlast them.

'But what can I admire about this loudmouthed, exhibitionistic beauty? The center of attention, longed for, lusted after and disgustingly visible to the general public?"

I gazed longingly at her beloved photograph, wishing, yet again, that I had only had to battle my family just a single time.

Nearly instantaneously, it was as if I could hear her voice in my head, answering my question with a statement of her own. One I denied most vehemently.

"I am not going through The Stage!"

It was the truth. I did not feel that lecherous, odious, appalling, abysmal urge to copulate with the blonde tenth division vice-captain. I didn't feel that attraction I knew was the signature emotion linked to that asinine tradition.

"I am not in denial," I responded to her silent remonstrance.

I was positive a vein could be seen to be popping out on my forehead as I reacted to her most recent answer.

"Do not shower me with platitudes."

I stood, an obvious dismissal and strode away, cloak swirling.

I knew now that I was indeed in serious trouble. One didn't have conversations with one's dead wife without realizing action needed to be taken.

I twitched as I heard movement in a hallway not too far away. No one could know of my ridiculous foray from reality.

No seriously.

hisana told him that admission of the problem is the first step to the solution... or something. laughs


	2. Chapter 2

AN: i blame feilyn for however quickly this story gets updated. it seems like i skip sleep to do it, cuz i get distracted teasing her with previews... grins also, i did seriously debate about the last line or not... but then i threw it in... at any rate, enjoy! oh, and in case you haven't read the original the stage... GO DO IT NOW!

xXx

I think it surprised others frequently once they realized just how much I noticed. Almost everything, actually. It was no wonder to me personally that I worried and considered what would happen to the ever-diminishing Hitsugaya Toushirou, still genius in there somewhere.

After all, Ukitake Jyuushirou cared for the younger man deeply with an elder brotherly affection. There was no question that he worried for the captain's continuously deteriorating mental state. And I worried about Ukitake.

Ukitake counted as one of the few positive male influences in my life, many of them having been rather distinctly negative. A not so well known feature of the nobility is their tendency to cart off youthful members to other powerful teachers to enhance the child's education. I was lucky enough to have been shoved in the direction of an actual good soul.

There are some things impossible to say, especially for an individual such as me, where appearance and silence mean everything. I could never express how strange and refreshing it was to exist in an environment where my nobility meant nothing. I am nobility. I carry it. I hold it, I uphold it, I shall be remembered for it and my lineage shall continue it. It has always been everything I am. It is all that has been valuable about me. And it was my only reason for existing. Which is why it was a shattering thing, to be in an environment where such things were meaningless.

What then, was my meaning? If my nobility was no longer important, what was? Ukitake was the man who taught me how to live. If I considered anyone a father, he probably would come the closest, if only for the role he played in showing me kindness, intelligence, and an appreciation for a strength that was not necessarily physical. I have always wondered if my family would still have sent me to be trained by Ukitake-Taichou if they had known how it would affect and conflict what they had taught me.

Regardless, the bottom line was still that I cared and worried for Ukitake as I rarely did for anyone. As such, the tenth division's captain's deteriorating mental state would worry me as so few things did.

I also worried about the precarious nature of the relationship between him and his third seat. Both so close, yet so stubbornly far apart.

Most recently was though, I knew Ukitake was very worried about Hitsugaya's state of being. I hoped that that would not degenerate any further, what with everything else he was also concerned with. Rukia's minimal acceptance to vice-captain status by other division members, for example.

No need to go into detail about my reactions on that particular situation. Suffice to say that Rukia surprised me greatly, a rare feat indeed that does not bear repeating.

It was becoming fairly clear to me, however, that drastic steps needed to be taken. It was getting to the point that someone needed to point out what was best for him. And I couldn't seem to stop myself from watching her.

I was rapidly becoming far too wrapped up in her world. As if knowing everything about her could push away the insecurities of my own.

The way she always handled herself as a woman, yet always very much in charge and in control. Unafraid to challenge what was unquestionably a male-dominated hierarchy and succeed brilliantly. She presented a strange paradox I simply couldn't understand. A loose woman with no apparent morals or regard for conservative dress. Someone who disregarded rules and social obligations when it suited her. Yet someone who ran a division single-handedly.

Someone who broke anyone standing in the way of what she deemed fair or right. She made up her own rules, and more surprisingly, others willingly followed them.

Not only that, but she was careful to always watch out for others. Those that she cared for, she took under her wing. Even those she wasn't close to were perfectly comfortable reaching out to her and asking for assistance. Such was especially the case with the acting captain of the fifth division.

That young girl-for still, she was not yet a woman to me-was so overburdened with duties and emotional scars, and yet the tenth-division vice-captain reached out to save rather than turn from her. Something few had the courage to do, especially in the face of that kind of grief.

I understood that, if only because it was precisely the sort of thing I was unsuited for.

I watched the two spar together, something I'd not seen her do before, most likely because she simply didn't have the time. She was always so busy, in a constant state of motion.

The two smiled and bantered easily over their crossing swords. I couldn't quite hear what was said, as I was just out of hearing range, but it seemed to entertain them.

Watching them, it was easy to see that both were comfortable with the other's style of swordplay. The constant movement. A dance of swords.

It has never been a question in my mind, my own brilliance with the sword. I might have been called a genius, if my ascendancy to captain had not been so close to Hitsugaya-Taichou's. I understood the underlying nature of the sword and the forces that drove it's swirling blade. It came to me as easily as the swirling petals of Senbonzakura that obeyed my very thoughts. It was as a sword master that I watched her now.

Matsumoto Rangiku. Certainly no one to be trifled with. Especially with the sword. Still, I'd never had the opportunity to watch her spar before.

She was elegant.

But still weaker than I expected. And it seemed I wasn't the only one to think that, judging by the body language on the younger vice-captain. Was she distracted?

It seemed as if she'd been distracted often lately. Not quite all there. I didn't admit that it worried me.

She fell backwards, landing unflatteringly in a heap on the floor. It didn't take her long to retaliate in kind however.

I did not almost smile.

Slash, feint, slash. Flashes of bright sunlight glanced off my eyes. I resisted the urge to raise a hand to block it. Such a thing would immediately garner the attention of a fighter, something I certainly didn't want. I tried to ignore the awkwardness of the idea that I was following her around.

It wasn't working necessarily, but I ignored that too.

A riposte. Feint. She pushed back, going on the attack, pulling a manoeuvre high, which somehow causing Hinamori to slow enough to give her an advantage. It was right after that that she turned to stare right at me.

I wasn't quite sure if I shunpoed in time or not.

I didn't waste time reflecting on the matter.

It was becoming a problem. I was fairly sure that she was beginning to notice, if only because our eyes had actually been meeting lately.

But what was really getting my attention were the looks from other captains. As if they knew I was somewhere a noble of my standards should not, or at least would not normally be located.

I wasn't going through the Stage. I knew that. There was no possible way.

But at the same time, it was becoming very clear that something was happening.

xXx

Strange how fighting can stir memories.

_Renji_…..

One of the most enlightening moments in my existence was the initial fight against Renji's bankai. It was both a situation I never anticipated and I strength I never expected such a commoner to find.

Though he did not succeed in even injuring me, that was the first time I understood true strength.

The power to stand when there is no power left. The will to fight when there is no hope. The strength to endure rather than die.

He did it again saving my life.

Blocking a blow meant to kill me and taking on an enemy about to defeat me. Me, said to be the strongest of the house of Kuchiki in centuries. Such a boy when compared in years to me.

Such a man when compared in strength.

Strange how I was standing here at his grave again.

Is it easy to understand why his life still influences mine?

Is it hard to know that his death is just as difficult to accept?

He meant something to Rukia. A tie to her past, a close brother who could understand her roots. A protector she had never really wanted or needed, yet still cherished. And so he meant something to me.

Though I seem cold, the truth is, I am not. I just refuse to care for those without value.

Renji was one of those. Like she is.

Yet, he lived a life that continually denied that claim. He was always sacrificing for something. And if he wasn't, he was regretting his lack of will in forcing himself to.

How could I face someone stronger than me who was worthless? How could I stand before his grave and speak when he had given his life for something I didn't understand?

How could I speak to this boy when I was the one who was wrong?

I did what the nobility has always done best-pushed my emotions aside and named them meaningless.

It was my best, well-kept, classic exterior of typically cold blankness.

After all, I hide behind it so well.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: wow. been a while since i posted here. looks around in curiosity. well, i'm planning on posting chapter four this week, and then returning to my lovely hp fic. it gets lots of love cuz it's got shorter chapters and is easier to right. anyway. love you all, beautiful readers! reviews make me super happy and inspire me (btw) and i hope you enjoy the chapter!

xXx

I woke, dreams stirring at the back of my mind in swirling patterns I wished only to forget.

I dreamed of Hisana.

It wasn't that I didn't love her still. I did. Nor was it that I did not enjoy thinking of her. I  
did. It was simply the feelings that thinking of her engendered. I did not want to feel them.

They detracted from my cold mask, the cold mask of uncaring I was currently trying to embrace. Right now I did not care for Renji. I did not care for her and I could not afford to care for Hisana or the careful control would be shattered.

Was it so cowardly to hide behind my coldness?

I tried to ignore that thought also.

It seemed as if the Gotei 13's actions lately were orchestrated to torment and crack my shield and steely façade. But I knew that was not true. That was paranoia and a Kuchiki knew better than to fall victim to such a mental state. A Kuchiki was also supremely skilled at refusing to acknowledge was it was inconvenient to acknowledge. And I was the strongest and most powerful Kuchiki in generations. Such a task was miniscule for me and it slipped easily behind the smooth mask.

Along with everything else.  
_  
"Renji's dead." I didn't even notice that I hadn't referred to him by his title. At the time, such things simply didn't matter._

Rukia had stared at me, as unable to believe to two simple words as I was. "W-what?," was her breathy and brief response. It was hitting her even slower than me. But perhaps I was more used to death in battle.

"He fell in the fight with Ichimaru." The words were clipped and short, as the words always were with me. No more detail than was necessary, no more words than strictly essential.

Perhaps my distraction was why it took me a moment to realize Rukia was growling.

"Rukia?" I blinked in surprise, my mind surfacing from the safe edges of emotionless emptiness I'd sunk it in.

A constant and steady stream of words flew from her mouth, but just under my range of hearing. Not that it mattered. I was fairly certain of what she must be saying. What was a surprise was when she bolted towards the door, clutching her zanpakutou. I reacted in time, blocking her progress through the door and grasping her shoulders firmly.

"I'll kill him!" Her voice was low and savage, echoing strangely in the still air. It was also littered with several other, more colorful words I did not care to remember so well.

I sighed. "Rukia. Perhaps I didn't explain myself well enough. Ichimaru is also dead. He and Renji killed each other."

Rukia looked up at me, eyes staring into mine. With no other outlet for her anger, the pain was rising into her eyes and tears pricked the edges of her vision.

I knew what was coming next. It was a question to which I had no answer.

xXx

I was in my office, working quietly as I had done for past decades. Rikichi-fukutaichou sat at his desk in a further corner, scribbling away furiously at the paperwork littered around his desk. I refrained from sighing, as I did so much when in the office. Not only was it highly unprofessional, it also cued Rikichi-fukutaichou to glance at me worriedly. This would be followed by more and more frequent glances and a nervous twitch in his eye. He would start at the slightest sound and then flick yet another worried glance in my direction. It degenerated from that point forward.

I guessed it was because he was afraid of me. I saw no reason for him to be, of course, but it didn't stop the ridiculous sentiment. The hardest part had been getting the fellow to work in my presence at all. If he wasn't completely competent, I would have had him replaced decades ago. The fact was, Rikichi-fukutaichou was extremely good at his job, especially the paperwork. I just wished he didn't look quite so incompetent doing it.

I had managed to, at one point, train him into keeping an immaculate desk. It looked very thorough and nearly as pristine as my own. The downside was that he no longer relaxed in any manner, causing him to either get little work done or simply do it horribly wrong. In a week, he had returned to his previously messy ways and I was not stupid enough to attempt the venture a second time. Better to have a quality lieutenant than one who merely appeared able.

"Rikichi-fukutaichou."

He turned and looked directly into my eyes, confident, for now at least, that he had done nothing inaccurately.

"There have been reports from several patrols in our districts of rumored hollow movement. Possibly attack. I would like you to assemble teams to investigate."

Rikichi-fukutaichou nodded and strolled over to take the paperwork indicating where the sightings had taken place. "Hai, Taichou." He took the papers and returned silently to his desk.

"Rikichi-fukutaichou."

Now he looked up apprehensively, clearly no longer certain that he was perfectly mistake-free.

"I-" I stopped. Started again. Stopped. Considered for a moment. "Tell me your evaluations of the other lieutenants."

He licked his lips nervously, sweat popping on his forehead. "Why? Have I forgotten to do something? Is something wrong?"

Had I not been a Kuchiki, I would have rolled my eyes at his paranoia. Since I was I refrained from drawing attention to his inane assumptions. "No. I simply wished to consider the structure and presentation from other divisions. For maximum efficiency."

There. That sounded perfectly adequate.

Rikichi licked his lips once more, clearly still nervous. "Hai, hai. Well, there are still only nine vice-captains in all since the war. The second division's, Marechiyo-fukutaichou, seems to be a reasonable vice-captain, if an unreasonable individual. It's well-known how little Soi Fon-Taichou cares for her vice, but as long as he still completes his work, she lets him stay. I don't think they work all that well together, but they manage.

"Isane-fukutaichou and Unohana-Taichou are both very close and appear to work together exceedingly well. Of course, it's been argued that's because they don't have to do as much sparring, but there's no real proof of that. Either way, the fourth is one of the best organized divisions, it's true.

"Ise-fukutaichou is the backbone of the eighth division. I don't think anyone would let her leave there for fear that it would fall apart without her, seeing as how she gets the least assistance from her captain of any other division, including Ukitake-Taichou's."

It seemed to be a hint that I couldn't have her as a vice-captain. I was already regretting having asked. Still, perhaps I would indeed learn something useful. Though perhaps not.

"The ninth division's vice-captain is really rather new, but seems to get on well enough with Hisagi-Taichou. Their paperwork is always on time and fighting skills seem to be at least on average with other divisions, so they do all right. I don't know as much about his organizational styles, it's true. They don't talk much."

Rikichi paused, as if uncertain whether that was enough or if I wanted to step in and make a comment. I inclined my head without bothering to reassure him. Generally a waste of time if anything else.

"The tenth division is probably the strangest. Matsumoto-fukutaichou seemed for a long time to do no work, though she got along well with her captain. Then, when her captain neglected the work and the division, she easily slipped in and took over. And as soon as he recovered, she slipped back into doing nothing. There's no real way to measure her competence because she doesn't seem to work her hardest all the time. But she will if she has to." He frowned, as if understanding these things for the first time, if only because he had finally voiced them.

I realized that was probably true.

"Thank you, Rikichi-fukutaichou. That's enough to go on for now." I did not particularly want to endure his clumsy evaluations of the last three divisions. Especially since I'd already heard anything I might have found interesting.

Rikichi stood up and floundered for a few moments. His mouth opened and then shut again. He turned and went back to his desk, apparently relatively confused.

I resisted the urge to shrug and turned back to my own paperwork.

Somehow, it was more exceedingly dull than I had ever recalled it being.

xXx

_"Why didn't you do something?! You're a captain! Weren't you even there?!" Suddenly Rukia was beating at my chest, shoving me ineffectually and screaming. The pain was intense and sharp, but I ignored the dizziness caused by my still unhealed wounds. I could handle this. "Why didn't you save him?" Her voice was small and so wounded that for a moment, I couldn't breathe. But I recovered._

Each word seem to tear a little deeper. After all, wasn't she right? I am a captain. Why didn't I save him?

Why couldn't I succeed where Renji had?

Why?

I said nothing. There was nothing to say. I had no more answers than she did.

Instead, I let her grief spill out over me, onto my emotionless mask. I let the dizziness and pain wash over me. Physical hurt was so much better than the emotions I was burying. And I was a master at showing nothing, appearing to feel nothing, even the physical wounds that had brought me so close to death. It seemed only to make her angrier and then simply very weary.

"Don't you even care?," she whispered, voice full of despair.

"He was an excellent fukutaichou," I managed at last.

"Is that all?"

"What else is there?" Not even a change in the modulation of my voice.

She stared at me and I could discern nothing from her expression-only loss. She stared for minutes and even I could not recall precisely how long it was. Eventually she pushed me aside and strode out towards the fourth division. Or, more precisely, the cordoned section near fourth division where the retrievable bodies were kept.

In all the years following, the conversation never did come up again. Neither of us ever mentioned it.

It was the only time Rukia ever struck me.

I scowled, unable to contain the bit of irritation surfacing at the revival of the memories. I did not want to think of the past. I barely wanted to consider the present. Perhaps it was time to actually seek some outside advice. I knew it would not be pleasant. The key was whether or not the unpleasantness might be worth the feedback I would receive.

Perhaps.

Perhaps it was time to visit Ukitake-Taichou.

xXx


	4. Chapter 4

AN: hey everybody! waves... yeah, it's a bit later than i hoped for... but it's done right! hope you enjoy since matsumoto finally comes in... grins i think i'm overall happy with this chappy... anyway, i really hope you like it and i really, REALLY would love reviews and feedback. insert puppy dog face here... so here's to hoping for some. but seriously, enjoy!

xXx

I approached Ukitake-Taichou's office the same way I approached any other office-calmly and professionally, as if it were my own. I heard voices from inside as I was approaching the outer doors.

"-amount of sake Shunsui can down in one go, yeah? Trust me – you're never going to be reimbursed. There's actually a theory going around that if everyone got their money back, the economy would collapse."

I was surprised. I definitely hadn't expected to see her here. I had been avoiding seeing her, if only to avoid the reactions seeing her caused. I proceeded forward, regardless. No sense turning back, only to look a fool.

"You do not drink anymore, remember Ran-chan?"

I saw, rather than heard, Rukia speak first as I walked into the office. _Her _back was to me, and so initially, she did not notice my presence.

"Doesn't mean I can't dream. Anyway, is Ukitake-taichou here?"

"I'm a glorified secretary," Rukia grumbled. "And.. well, he is but I think it's probably not a good idea to – _Nii_-sama?"

Though my hearing was quite excellent, I still found it difficult to determine whether or not she had squeaked. I would have guessed she had. She whipped around, rather shocked, it seemed, to run into me here.

I was positive no emotion escaped my façade other than cool politeness. "Kuchiki-fukutaichou. Matsumoto-fukutaichou. I wish to speak with Ukitake-Taichou. I assume he is free?" My question was directed towards Rukia, the vice-captain.

She actually struggled to produce a response and I felt vaguely frustrated as Matsumoto-fukutaichou was forced to step in and answer instead.

"I'm afraid he's not." There was a pause, longer than I might have anticipated before she added, "Kuchiki-Taichou."

I was certain my eyes were narrowing at her. I was also certain that there was brazen disrespect hidden in her tone, of which I didn't approve, but as she kept it hidden, there was little I could do. I raised an eyebrow instead, refraining from speaking yet still asking why he wasn't available.

"He's not free," she responded, understanding the question. "I was just about to see him. Unless it's important?"

I eloquently quelled the odd feeling of respect I felt for her incredible daring and settled for irritation at her impertinence.

It didn't really work, especially as she stared straight into my eyes. I knew she wasn't the only one who felt… something. But I refused to acknowledge whatever that something might be. The blankness I was prone to exude dictated my response, despite what I would like to have answered. "The matter is not urgent, no. I will wait." Though it seemed to grow more urgent with the passing time spent in her company.

"How fortunate." Her catlike response grated a bit, but she shortly jumped and turned back to Rukia. "How's the Kiyone matter going?"

Rukia rolled her eyes and I stifled the brief urge to strangle the man into doing what was good for him. Such things were not the actions of Kuchiki.

"It's not going. He is too stubborn and she is happy so long as she's near him."

Typical Ukitake-Taichou. My theory was that when one had lived quite that long, everything simply became a matter of time. And when one had seen so much death, it came to affect the sense of self. Ridiculous of course, but difficult to understand from such a different mindset.

"Uh… where is she?"

"With him. He had another bad fit yesterday. You know how she gets." Rukia looked a bit worried. But not enough to warrant my being concerned. So I wasn't.

"Maybe I should come back at another time…"

I was almost surprised she was concerned. As brazen as she was, I supposed she did actually care for others outside of her own interests. I was both pleased and irked that I was apparently being ignored. It was useful of course, seeing as how neither woman would volunteer such information to me, but as a captain, I deserved a bit more respect. It was rather pleasant to realize I was not the only one attempting to cause Ukitake-Taichou to see sense as it applied to his third seat. I may not have liked the woman myself, but that had nothing to do with his relationship with her.

"To be honest I think it would be a good idea. She was chattering happily about Sentarou about a half an hour ago and I don't like to interrupt them when they're reminiscing."

Oh. It appeared neither of us would be allowed a visit to the elder captain. Another time perhaps. Still, there was no rush to depart. I tried to ignore my reasoning for doing so. As time was passing, my innate skill of ignoring was apparently growing weaker. But I managed.

"I hear Ichigo's due back tomorrow," the blonde sung in a disgustedly happy voice.

Rukia's voice and face visibly darkened at the mention. It was odd, considering her general enthusiasm for the fellow-something I myself preferred not to think about. Though, generally speaking, I was happy for her, even if I didn't necessarily approve of her choice.

After all, the Kuchikis didn't approve of Hisana.

"Idiot bloody Kurosaki," Rukia had said. "He couldn't just wait a day so I can get this paperwork out of the way. Kiyone doesn't understand what half of these forms are, and she refuses to ask taichou. Oi, Nii-sama!"

I gazed calmly at her, well used to her casual attitude that was continuing to wear down as the years passed between us. What used to be so formal was slowly degenerating into something…… filial. Well, at least on her side. I still held to my formality, but Rukia was growing to understand that better than most.

"What's a seven-nine-eight?"

"Damage caused by the Eleventh Division." How was it that Rukia managed to break all my careful boundaries between nobility and the rest of the world?

"Then what on earth is this for? Eleventh never – oh, wait, that's right. Ikkaku punched one of the Twelfth Division transfers through the wall a month ago." She shook her head. "No one ever seems to understand that I'm fully capable of doing it myself."

It was those sort of attitudes that irked me tremendously. No one should be able to doubt a noble. It simply wasn't done.

"I think the people that Unohana refused treatment after you beat the sh– snot out of them probably do," the blonde drawled easily back. I noted her correction to myself as a reminder of her lack of polish.

There was nothing likeable about this woman. Nothing.

"Yes, but that was _after_ the wall incident. Will you be visiting the graves next week?"

Graves?

"Of course." She was blinking faintly, as if surprised by the sudden change in topic.

_What graves? _Every time I was certain I knew everything about her, could determine once and for all how worthless it all was, something new would surface. I did not know what I felt anymore or what I wanted. I could not say what graves they might mean. I could not say why it even mattered at all.

Though it was easy enough to guess that one might be Renji's.

"I – I'm going home. If you see Ichigo before me, which I've no doubt you will, tell him something needs to be done about my taichou and he's the best person to do it."

She seemed oddly flustered all of a sudden. Somehow, it didn't suit the image of her I remembered. And yet, it did. The awkward part was when she whirled around suddenly and tumbled over the nearest chair in her desperation to depart.

It was….. interesting. Partially because she was so clearly embarrassed by the display, which was rather typical of brazen behavior. Her face flushed and she turned aside, swearing quite loudly in words that would have put many men to shame.

I was speaking before my mind had even realized I wanted to. The blush staining her cheeks had decided me before I'd had a chance to think. "Do you need to be walked home, Matsumoto-fukutaichou?" Even I couldn't tell if my voice was slightly mocking or not. It disturbed me to consider it wasn't.

She accepted.

I didn't want to know how that affected me either.

xXx

"What are the graves that my sister spoke of?" Once again, my voice had taken leave of my usually silent senses. I could not begin to understand how being around her simply….. changed me.

She looked over at me, clearly surprised. I couldn't blame her, being rather surprised myself. "Well…Renji's of course. I've seen you there once or twice, Kuchiki-taichou."

She had? That was discomfiting. Then of course, the rest of the sentence struck home. _Renji_. That name always brought me pause. "He was a good subordinate." I filled the awkward silence.

"He saved your life," was her quick and sharp remonstrance. Her eyes were piercing.

"And lost his own. For the sake of his pride. So he would be remembered as the man who killed Ichimaru where I couldn't." I was reacting, feelings rising from behind the mask in response to her words, when normally I could simply brush them away.

_I was not going through the Stage!_

It was as good a distraction as any. Even if it didn't last.

She did not rush to answer. Her face was nearly thoughtful as she contemplated the best response. "A lot of people do stupid things for pride," she said. "But I don't think it was Renji's pride he was protecting."

I did not want to hear these things. It did not matter how accurate they were. My mind was racing ahead once more. "Then he was a fool." _How could I confide this in her?_

"For not protecting his pride or for protecting you?"

Her words cut deep through the layers of bitterness and self-inflicted blindness. Forcing me to confront what I had no wish to. I could not even bring myself to reply. There were no sufficient words for the truth and for some reason, she was compelling me to honesty.

"I guess that's answer enough."

I took my time to consider how best to answer. I did not want to leave the conversation with such an ending. I felt compelled to explain, to make her understand why he was wrong. Why he had been worthless. _Yet he wasn't_, part of me whispered. "Ichimaru was my fight," I finally managed. "There should have been no interference from anyone."

Her response merely threw off my thoughts completely. "This is one of those Ichigo things, isn't it?"

I stared at her.

"You didn't want anyone to interfere in your fight with Ichigo either, did you Kuchiki-taichou? And when you lost, you would have been quite happy for Unohana-taichou to let you die." For some reason, she was shaking her head at me. "What was it you said about pride?"

Though she was startlingly elucidatory about myself, there were clearly some things that she would find difficult to understand. And I had not been so far gone as to be content to die. Leastways, not with Rukia left undefended from the family. "It was less about pride and more about vengeance, Matsumoto-fukutaichou." I continued when I realized she required further clarification. "Ichimaru was involved in the plot that nearly killed my sister. He succeeded in taking the life of Kusajishi-fukutaichou and if I'm not mistaken, you no longer have any feeling in your left shoulder thanks to him." I knew I wasn't.

What I didn't know was that it would surprise her. Shocked her actually.

In this conversation, it seems I cannot help but say too much.

When she finally recovered, she laughed. It was an oddly bitter sound and I do not think I enjoyed it. "You didn't go after Gin for _that_ though. Plus, it was my own fault. I jumped in the way of a death stroke meant for a member of my team. The healer. You should have seen the look on his face."

I simply could not help the rush of rage that swept through me in that moment. I knew that I never wanted to see that "look" on his face. If I had, I was certain that I would hate Renji more than I already did.

She was caught up in a moment, however, and did not notice my reaction.

"He ran away, though. Well–made a hasty retreat, at least. But not before killing the healer. Taniyama-chan." She suddenly stopped, staring at our surroundings in confusion. "Uh – Kuchiki-taichou? Where are you taking me?"

I stared back at her, definitively distracted and baffled. We were in the general housing district, where the officers within divisions were housed. This was where she ought to live. In fact, I was fairly certain there was a house designated for her in the nearby vicinity. Apparently, however, she did not indulge in its use. "You…do not live here."

"I'm a barracks girl. Not a fan of big spaces." Her hair rather shook as she tossed her head in an attempted casual motion.

I was struck only wondering why she wouldn't use a better house given the opportunity. It was the sort of information that did not compute for me. "As a fukutaichou you have the right to a house in this area."

"Oh, make no mistake, Kuchiki-taicho. I still use the house. It's where I keep all my clothes."

It definitely conformed to no coherent logic I was aware of. In the nobility, it was always best to indulge to the greatest luxury affordable. It wasn't so much for selfishness as it was a symbol of status. "You do not wish for more…luxury."

The blonde fukutaichou twisted a dry smile in my general direction. "I grew up in a one room shack with no bathroom, Kuchiki-taichou. My bed was a pile of old blankets in the corner with the least holes in the wall and my heater was Ichimaru Gin. That barracks _are_ luxury. Hell, back then life was a luxury. I would have been dead if it hadn't been for Gin."

I could not identify the emotion welling up inside me. I knew it did not show outside the mask, but I felt it stirring regardless. The shock, however, did manage to bleed through. My eyebrow twitched.

"Starvation," she continued. "You know, you need food all the time when you've got a lot of reiatsu and it can be really hard to find."

_Oh_. The voice in my head was small. It did something else I didn't appreciate. Somehow, that seemed to be the mood it was in lately. It reminded me of Hisana. Sheer strength of will held the mask firmly in place, despite the swirling chaos of conflicted emotions. I wasn't quite used to them. The words still slipped out though. "I've heard mention of the difficulties of the Rukongai."

The sudden change of expression on her face confirmed that they had been a mistake. I shifted the topic back to the initial point of the discussion of housing, not only to allow her salvage, but to negate the strange emotions the story of her past had called up. "Tenth Division barracks it was, then?" I checked to insure that the topic was safely changed and was distracted by her eyes. Something was there, something I was just missing. It seemed she had noticed also, if her distracted answer was any indication.

"Hmm? Oh – yes. Kuchiki-taichou."

And my mouth overtook my senses yet again. Though it bothered me slightly that I didn't mind. "Then allow me to escort you." I held out my arm, somehow disbelieving what I was even doing. This was Matsumoto Rangiku. It simply did not make sense for her to be well bred enough to take my arm. For that matter, it did not make sense for her to be interested enough to either. And yet, for all that, she did.

And then she looked up at me through fluttering lashes and my mouth went dry. I did not react at all, saying absolutely nothing. I was the expert in the Kuchiki family at hiding the truth. It served me well at that moment. Somehow, I was able to start walking.

It was odd to realize that the woman every man lusted after was walking around the Seireitei on my arm. But it was even stranger to consider the entirely opposite conclusion the nobility would come to if they knew. The most unusual thing of all though, was that she had even consented to be there in the first place.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: YAY! has updated. as though that's not perfectly obvious. anyway. i know it's been a bit since i updated /anything/ but don't any of you think that's for lack of wanting to!! homework has been positively monstrous this term. however, i'm going home in a couple weeks, so bear with me a bit longer... i'm hoping to get to chapter eight pretty soon... just cuz feilyn mentioned it to me and it got me all hyped up... grins happily. anyway, this chapter would not exist without the constant encouragement (ahem, nagging, laughs) of feilyn! so thank you feilyn! hearts and so forth. in the meantime, enjoy the chapter! utter chaos likely to be updated next...

xXx

I had never actually spent any particular length of time with her before. I think that's really the only explanation for the strange, single-minded focus that shifted all of my attention from my surroundings. I was thinking of nothing but the woman walking beside me. It was quite likely the most unnerving experience in my rather lengthy existence. Still, there was this odd sensation stirring in the back of mind, the feeling that I was forgetting something.

Something that, despite all common sense, I was still curious about.

"What was the other grave?"

"Hmm?," was her queried non-response.

I forced down the odd feeling that she hadn't been paying attention to me as irrelevant before clarifying. "Rukia mentioned graves. A plural. You only spoke about Renji."

"I know the word graves is plural."

Were I a lesser man and not a noble, I would have been irritated with her continual evasion. As I was not, I waited patiently for her to find the appropriate words that would more clearly elucidate the situation for me.

"It works better if I show you," she finally said. "If you're that interested meet me a week from now. Six o'clock, Renji's."

It was a strange offer. And yet, I was intrigued. Matsumoto Rangiku, at a loss for words? What could possibly induce such a state in her? I wanted to avoid her at all costs (and had been succeeding with surprising results), but the opportunity was entirely compelling. Though I found it difficult to name precisely why. I settled for curiosity.

"Very well."

"I – you agreed?"

The blank shock smothering her features answered the question before it was uttered, but I asked anyway. "You expected me not to?"

"Well, yeah, actually."

I had to admit to some vague surprise. I hadn't considered that it had been a polite, empty invitation. Foolish of me to think otherwise. Probably. "Did you wish to rescind your offer?"

I don't think either one of us had a clue what her response would be. I could not even determine which of the two answers I preferred.

"Um…no. Not really." She followed the pronouncement with another flutter of her lashes. The one that somehow, seemed to consistently shake me every time. "Six o'clock, a week from now?"

I did not want to consider the implications of a lacking reciprocal interest. Which bordered on obsession.

Though I wasn't going through the Stage.

I just tended to notice her was all. And though it was entirely possible that she did not even contemplate similar thoughts, I did not want to think about what, exactly, that made my behavior. So I did not.

"Renji's grave," I murmured as an assent.

I borrowed an internal moment to appreciate the, at the very least, memorable nature of this encounter. After all, Matsumoto Rangiku had not agreed to meeting another male in years. Though that was mostly on the shoulders of her captain, not necessarily her choices. It did not diminish the meaningfulness of the sentiment.

"Oh, this is my stop." She dropped her arm from mine. "Thank you, Kuchiki-taichou, for bringing me home. Who knows what I might have tripped on without you."

I did not smile as I turned away. At least, I did not admit to the smile.

xXx

I was working in my office, calmly completing the paperwork, as I was wont to do most days.

Rikichi was absent at the time, though I considered that more of a fringe benefit than a deterrent. Quiet, peaceful silence, in which I did not have to pay particular attention to my own expressions or sighs. Generally, this was not a problem simply because it was my typical demeanor. It was relatively relaxing however, to not spend time in the company of one so constantly on edge in my presence.

The truth was that I needed to let go of this very odd infatuation I held with a particular vice-captain. The paperwork merely provided the perfect excuse for my solitude. The actual work was consisting of mostly personal thoughts.

I refused to acknowledge the possibility that I was going through the Stage. It simply was not an option. Ever.

Instead, I reminded myself of all the reasons I should not want her.

She was not a noble. This was possibly the largest mark against her. She could never become powerful enough or respected enough to belong to the clan. Interaction with her would mean nothing at all to the family.

She was loud and brash when I most respected silence. It was almost a sign of self-control and good character to know when to hold the tongue and that time was almost a constant.

She was bossy and domineering when the mood suited her (usually with her division or close friends), an attitude I rather resented. It was pure irritation, listening to the resulting sound effects. One did not need to behave in such a manner to garner obedience. Still, there was no question that her methods were effective. After all, the Tenth division was one of the better organized and better trained of the Thirteen. And it was perfectly clear that this was not the result of its current captain, seeing as how the tensai had yet to perform those duties in nearly four years.

Any fukutaichou who managed to tolerate such languishing inactivity possessed more patience than I was capable of comprehending or even exuding. Most fukutaichous had tremendous difficulty running a division independently, especially when the captain was present and acted _against _the best interests of said division. The mere fact that the division still managed to maintain its high standards was a clear testament to her skills in both command and organization.

Though she displayed her body for the general public, the other male shinigami were far too intimidated by her skill and reputation to dare approach her. Especially with the dangerous way she had of fingering the hilt of her zanpakutou with an almost _longing _air…

I scratched mindlessly away at the necessary paperwork with my writing utensil as I contemplated the sparring match I had witnessed.

She had been distracted and exhausted but still somehow managed to seem graceful. I wondered idly if it was all fabricated in my mind or if I was simply imagining things in my obsession.

I sat back and did not glare at my desk papers, realizing the line of thoughts my mind had followed.

This was unacceptable. I was not going through the Stage, yet somehow I was continuously thinking about that peasant.

"_I can fight with you just as equally!" Renji was exclaiming vehemently._

"_The fight is mine to win," I repeated, unimpressed with his disobedience, as was usually the case. And, just as usually, he ignored me._

"_There is no reason to fight one on one in a battle atmosphere when two would be so much more efficient!" he growled, clearly unconvinced._

_My face was as blank as it always was. "I am your captain. This is an order. You _will _obey it or suffer the consequences."_

_Rage mottled his cheeks in a blurred red sheen, oddly matching his hair. "Screw. You." His voice was deadly serious. "You're always saying how 'ridiculously behaved' the lower class is. Tell me it's a surprise that I'd disobey now," he sneered._

"_Renji."_

_He stopped and stared at me._

"_This fight is mine to win." My voice was implacable. "Do you understand?"_

_He sighed, clearly frustrated. "I just don't understand _why_… How did this become personal to you?"_

_I did not react, having come to expect such astuteness from my fukutaichou. "He is crazed. A disgrace to those who wield bankai. He has threatened and betrayed us all. As a captain and a noble, it is my responsibility."_

Renji had been the only one besides Ukitake-Taichou able to pry answers from me. It was because we shared a trust and there had been very few who ever earned that right from me.

_Renji looked at me critically, something I had been fairly certain he would not have done before. Perhaps he was learning after all. "I guess I believe you. Doesn't change the fact that you're a bloody idiot, however."_

"_Somehow, I never thought those words would be uttered by you," I murmured. "Do I have your word?"_

_His glare was surprisingly piercing. He hesitated for a long moment and I almost believed he would not agree. "You have it."_

A stampeding through the hallway just outside my office door interrupted my bitter reminisces. Loud voices and shocked gasps also accompanied the irritatingly rambunctious footsteps. I tilted my head in an annoyed attempt to learn what it was that had the crowd so agitated.

"…can't believe it…."

"Yeah, that substitute shinigami!…"

The voices continuously overlapped each other, making it difficult to distinguish a thread of conversation or topic. I stood and swished noiselessly towards the fusuma.

"The acting Captain of the Fifth attacking _the _Kurosaki?! Unbelievable!"

As unseemly as my position was, it appeared it was useful. How else was I to discover things?

"Gave him a black eye from what I heard…"

"I just can't figure out _why _she attacked him…"

After they had passed by, I took but a moment to contemplate what on earth could have happened that Hinamori Momo would do such a thing. Then I brushed away the sentiment, not particularly bothered. If it were anything of significance, I would have been notified, or I would be soon.

I decided I had had enough of pointless paperwork in an empty office, alone with my constantly straying thoughts. So I left in a swirl of Captain's robes towards Ukitake-Taichou's office. And if I swept past the Tenth division on the way, it was simply because that happened to be the most convenient path.

Though I could not help but feel this odd, nagging sensation that I was missing something.

I did not waste time thinking over the matter too closely as I had already arrived at the Thirteenth. This time, no one was loitering about except for Koutetsu-kun. She was staring at her desk, the only word to describe her expression being completely befuddled. The orange-haired ryoka must have arrived then.

"Is Ukitake-Taichou available?" I inquired evenly.

She looked up, nearly jumping straight into the air in startlement at the interruption. For a few seconds, she simply sat there frowning, clearly working her way out of the paperwork induced stupor to remember if, indeed, he was available. She hesitated a brief moment before nodding

"H-hai, Kuchiki-Taichou." Then she smiled at me, before turning warily back to the papers stacked on the desk. "Go right on in."

I swept into the office, feeling multiple emotions flashing through me. I was anxious to hear Ukitake-Taichou's advice, though I was far from anticipating his initial reactions. Internally, I braced myself and greeted him.

"Sensei."

Ukitake looked up, apparently pleasantly surprised to see me. "Bya-kun!" He smiled tiredly.

"Excuse me for interrupting."

"Nonsense, nonsense, this break is beyond appreciated."

I noted carefully the blackened lines around his eyes and frowned mentally.

"So, what brings you down here, Bya-kun?" His look was almost knowing and I experienced a cold moment of fear, wondering if others knew as well. Was I, wearer of Seireitei's greatest mask, truly that transparent?"

My voice was heavy. "The Tenth Division's fukutaichou," I managed to grind out.

"Matsumoto Rangiku, Bya-kun?"

If I had been Toushirou Hitsugaya, I was certain a layer of ice would have frozen over every surface of the unfortunate room. Fortunately for Ukitake, I was not and held a much higher standard of control.

"For once, Sensei, spare my dignity. Please refrain yourself from laughing at my misfortune." And misfortune it was, standing here to be mocked. Still, it was the risk I had taken in coming at all.

"Dignity, Bya-kun?" He expressed a strangely brave amount of gall in actually laughing at that point. But it was his next words that caused me to wish most fervently (in strange opposition to my prior thoughts) that I did have the abilities of the Tenth Division Captain. "As soon as you started seeing that woman instead of letting your eyes skip over her, your dignity was as good as gone. Men do strange things when they're going through The Stage."

It wasn't cold running through my veins and chilling my blood-though I wished it was-and it took me some time to place it. It was the unfamiliarity of the feeling coupled with its overwhelming nature that wasted most of the precious seconds.

Though none of it was shown and none expressed, it still prowled underneath the surface. Waiting.

It was irrational. More than that, I recognized the complete irrational nature of my situation.

Still, it clawed at me, digging deeper and deeper.

I could not quite rid myself of the feeling.

It was fear.

xXx

oh look, a renji flashback! points and smiles. um... leave me reviews? cuz that'd make me super happy! dances.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: hey everybody!! this could quite possibly be the quickest i have /ever/ updated /anything/. lol. anyway, i borrowed feilyn's chapter in a day! so here 'tis, written in app. four hours. holy crack, even /i'm/ impressed. O.o anyways, i hope you all enjoy and reviews would make me super /super/ happy!! and aren't you excited for chapter eight? i know i am. grins. if you don't have a clue what i'm talking about, it's cuz you haven't read the original the stage by feilyn! this means you ought to rush right over right away. the only sad thing is that it's complete! cries. well, it's still brilliant and it lives on here! also, there are other fics in the wonderful l&f universe, so those are worth checking out her profile also. until next time!

xXx

It was not the paralyzing sort of fear that freezes one in place. It was closer to the fear that could be survived but never eradicated. Rather, one learned to live with it as breathing, this irrational emotion that constantly hovered on the edges of consciousness.

I was not longer even certain what it was I was afraid _of_. Was I afraid that my mask was no longer enough to keep others from my thoughts? Was I afraid that someone knew, that one word would be enough to topple everything I and my family had worked towards? Was I afraid that it was now undeniable, this feeling I had been trying to ignore? Was I afraid of wanting something beyond my reach?

I did not know.

Why had I even come here? To be confronted with the blatant knowledge I did not want to hear? The urge to flee-one which I never before experienced-was becoming stifling. I was already regretting having come at all. Now I simply had to retreat with _some _dignity left.

"I would very much to see you follow up on this, Bya-kun." Ukitake's voice was soft and I was reminded, oddly, that this was likely the reason I had come. "You have been alone and miserable for much too long."

That was a bit too much, I thought, considering how much older Ukitake was than me and comparatively how much longer he must have been alone. "Much the same could be said of you," I reminded him, stating the thought aloud.

"I wouldn't burden anyone with my love, Bya-kun. You, however, are a different story."

I nearly clenched my teeth at the old soul's stubbornness. Did he honestly think his fukutaichou was going to find someone else? That she _wouldn't _wait forever?

That, and his irksome refusal to not be distracted.

"You insist that I burden someone." I could still remember how it had turned out the first, last and only time I had loved. It was not an experience I cared to repeat, either for myself or the woman in question.

"So it _is_ love that we speak of, then," was Ukitake's sly response.

My response might have been fractionally too fast to be deceiving. "I said no such thing. She is rough, uncouth, loud, an exhibitionist, in love with her taichou and a commoner." The words were out of my mouth quickly and I was unsure as to whether I was saying them for his benefit or my own.

"Hitsugaya-taichou is enamored with Kurosaki Karin and I have it on the highest authority that Matsumoto-fukutaichou has never been in love."

That I had not known. It certainly explained some of the Tenth Division captain's behaviors of the past four years.

My mind skirted around, but did not precisely ignore, the last part of his statement. Still, did it truly matter if she hadn't been in love before?

Hisana had not.

"And is it Byakuya who can't stand those other qualities or is it the head of the Kuchiki family?"

I did not flinch at the stunning insight of his question. Though it was close.

It was true that I held no regard for such traits. But the point he made was still valid. Did I disapprove because of my nobility or simply because I disapproved? I did not have the answer for that either. Almost automatically, my mouth spoke the words I had been reminding myself of constantly.

"I am not going through The Stage."

"Is that what I asked?" Ukitake chuckled slightly.

It's what I had been thinking.

I remained silent.

"Tell me the truth, Byakuya. What is it that's stopping you from loving her?"

Everything. Nothing. Things that didn't really matter and then there were those that mattered far too much.

But I could admit nothing through the walls of denial I kept firmly erected.

"She is not Hisana."

True. I had loved her and part of me loved her still.

"That is not a good reason, and I don't believe for a second that it's the real one." His voice was firm and unrelenting.

I reminded myself stringently that I was no longer the errant student in danger of punishment.

"Sensei—"

"You came to me for help, Byakuya, let me finish. You are afraid. That is the simple truth of it. You are afraid that she _is_ like Hisana and that she won't love you back."

"I never said anything of love." I did not love her. At least, I did not think so. I most assuredly was _not _going through the Stage, at the very least.

"It probably says more that you didn't. Was there anything else?"

I resisted the urge to let the discussion degenerate into a pointless disagreement, as they had been wont to do on occasion in the past. Instead, I allowed Ukitake to change the topic of interest in order to garner information on a different matter.

"…Your health?"

"I'll cling to life a little longer yet."

I supposed that was the most detailed answer I could expect to receive from him. Somehow, Ukitake managed to evade unwelcome topics even more successfully than I. And he had decided it was time for me to depart.

Upon exiting the office, I immediately spotted Hitsugaya Toushirou conversing with Ukitake's third seat, Koutetsu-kun. He was the most clearheaded and conscious that I had seen him in possibly the entire four year stretch. I wondered only momentarily what might have occurred before Ukitake's voice interrupted my musing.

"You could just tell her, Byakuya-kun."

I felt a very slight involuntary spasm at the less respectful honorary. Usually, we were only less formal in private. And why he would continue such a private matter in more public company only exacerbated the irritation.

"I will not," was my annoyed reply. "It would be all over the Seireitei before the words left my mouth."

The woman _was _known for being a gossip and a drunk. Regardless of the fact that she had drunk only very little of late.

"I think she might surprise you, Bya-kun. For a start, don't you think she already knows?"

Simultaneous with the conclusion of Ukitake speaking was an extremely faint rustling a bit behind us. Almost immediately, my eyes rose to the position as the familiar nagging sensation I had sensed by the Tenth Division offices jolted abruptly into place.

Matsumoto Rangiku was crouched on the roof, having clearly been eavesdropping.

She was there only for a moment before flashstepping out and away.

I was absolute in the knowledge that my eyes, had in fact, betrayed emotion as they widened in recognition. I was also fairly certain that my mind had momentarily ceased functioning. Various thoughts were attempting to work their way into primary focus and I was far from ready to receive them, especially in front of any soul.

The fear was there again.

I swept out of office quickly and without a word.

How long had she been there? Or, perhaps more accurately, how much had she overheard?

I did not know which I feared more. That the knowledge would be, as I had guessed, all over the Seireitei in remarkably short time, that she had heard my disparaging commentary on her character or that she knew at all.

My thoughts grew only more frenzied.

I could never be with such a woman. _Why not?_

She did not deserve the burden of nobility. _But haven't you already realized that she's stronger than Hisana?_

She would not care for me. _She was _stalking _you. Don't you think that establishes a basis for something?_

I absorbed my surroundings with no small amount of shock. Having suddenly surfaced from the circular rambling thoughts afflicting my mind, it was disturbingly disconcerting to find myself, yet again, motionless before Renji's grave.

_Every muscle ached. Every bone felt shattered, broken. The height of nobility, crushed and bleeding, empty of reiatsu. My death was here and I could feel its imminent approach. A red film was sliding over my eyes and it wasn't rage._

_It was blood._

_It seemed as though I was cut everywhere, the daggered strikes of Shinsou have darted constantly in and out of my flesh. I struggled to even stand, straining against the heavy weight of what must have been gravity and somehow found myself unsuccessful. I tried to reach my bankai, my Senbonzakura, but she was mute to my calls. No energy answered._

_I waited for the finishing blow._

_It was a strange thing, the realization of utter failure. Pretty words I had spoken to my fukutaichou. All they were, were pretty words. Here, where they should have been proven and real, it was only clear that they meant nothing._

_I was weak._

_My thoughts were sluggish, as my body faded further and further into death, so it took some time for me to realize that my death strike had yet to fall._

_The last remnants of consciousness assisted me in tilting my head to the side to see what had become of my attacker, Ichimaru Gin._

_Flashes dashed and flitted across my vision in an incomprehensible haze. I was too far gone to follow the movements and attacks, but there was no mistaking that bankai._

_Renji._

_I did not know how long the battle lasted. I knew only that I lay there for what felt like days, delaying and delaying the lapse into unconsciousness that I knew must be coming. It would have signaled the end for me, but an end I was prepared to face with such a defeat before me._

_I missed much of what occurred but I will never forget its conclusion. Both broken, almost dead, energy depleted and Renji managed to lure Gin close for what Gin likely imagined to be the last thrust. A flash of light and both were locked in an immobile prison, Shinsou's gleaming blade protruding out of Renji's back. I remembered the grim expression on his face, something akin to pride, as he called on his bankai one final time._

_Hiihiou Zabimaru was weak, but for this attack, it mattered not. Weakly, it raised its head, staring at Renji-as if in confirmation-before the pieces all flew apart in scattered chaos. A moment's hesitation and then all were flying towards the two locked together in a binding spell. A last great explosion filled with flying pieces of flecked crimson and both were dead._

_And that was when unconsciousness finally took me, last witness to Abarai Renji's final moments._

There were tears, but I could not have said who shed them, if it was me or the rain.

There was shame, but I could no longer tell if it was his or mine.

There was nobility, but I was beginning to understand that the concept might be far different from what I had always known.

There was a dead peasant.

And there was me.

Somehow, it did not seem enough.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: hey! waves i know, i /know/ it's been ages... (sweatdrops) but think of it this way... at least it's not like waking up... anyway, it seems like, in order to make up for the time lapse, this chapter became epically long? lol. feilyn says i'm epic, so i'll go with that. also, fic pimpage! go read the first chapter of ozymandias on feilyn's prof!! it's this /epic/ fic that's a collab by her and bellzooks /and/ and bleach/naruto crossover. trust me it's awesome... if you haven't yet, go read it. oh, and check it out! /two/ flashbacks this chapter! (grins) i probably wanted to say more, but i'm too lazy to think of it now, so i'm just gonna post this and let you enjoy it. please leave me pretty reviews!! (loves you all)

xXx

The next few days passed in an odd blur. I spent the entire time barricaded (though not literally) in my own office, letting the constant memories wash over me. It seemed I was in no condition to endure public settings.

I was not _strictly _hiding.

It was simply that I had purposely allowed the paperwork to continuously pile so that I might trap myself with a reasonable excuse.

Though even I acknowledge the occasional need for advice and to "talk through things," I also knew that there were some things that could never be spoken aloud, let alone to an entirely separate individual.

Instead, I orchestrated the opportunity to work through this set of memories myself.

Only sheer luck had placed Rikichi-fukutaichou on other errands, leaving the office mostly to myself, for which I was extremely grateful.

I could not have said what in particular had led to this mental issue—though I did have a few choice guesses—but it was clear that it was driving me towards resolution. I both wanted and did not want to resolve the matter of Renji's death. It had, after all, been a part of my existence for fourteen years. I had spent so long ignoring it, I was not sure I would even begin to know how to let it go.

And did I want to?

Thinking about his death always brought to mind my own failures. Could I ever be comfortable acknowledging the way I abandoned my sister on a daily basis? Could I willingly recognize that I was not strong enough?

_The war, though brief, had inflicted a serious amount of damage on the Seireitei. In fact, it was hideously appalling how much damage had been done in a single year._

_I hated that small window, my tiny view into the outside world of chaotic reorganization in the aftermath. That I was not allowed to help in its restructuring was disgusting to me._

_Every time I stared at that outside world, what I saw was a world I was barred from. It was as if time had stopped since—since Renji's death. Time had stopped and I was stuck, no, _forced _into this role of perpetual uselessness. I was a failure. That day_—_my mind could still not create a description with greater words than that_—_counted as the proof of the greatest weakness of the nobility. What kind of man was I? What kind of _nobility _that some peasant could do what I could not? What weakness was it that here I was, restricted from any kidou or relief work in the aftermath when others who sustained just as great a loss were still out?_

_I, the heir to the Kuchiki clan, prevented from even _simple _work?_

_Oh, how I hated that window._

_Too many times did it drive me to distraction. Not today, I decided. I swirled easily out of the room, my physical injuries having been mostly healed for some time now, and headed for the outdoors._

_I began with a simple enough kidou, helping someone a bit too weak here and there, and gradually tried more difficult tasks as more asked for greater and greater favors. I succeeded in nearly reconstructing an entire window before I realized my reiatsu was giving out._

_It fluttered and sputtered momentarily before flickering out altogether._

_Sharp, jagged spikes of pain were searing through my upper chest where my hakusui soul sleep lay empty of its power. I shuddered, falling to my knees. _Had I truly gone too far already? _Humiliation burned inside my chest, filling the void of spirit energy._

_I knew I was on my knees now, but I was shutting the outside world away. It was rather like a specialized denial, used only in extreme circumstances. I gasped for air, trying to fit breaths between the pangs of agony centered around my chest. I don't know that I would have said whether it was lucky or not that a couple fourth squad members were nearby._

Had I really had so much pride? Was that really all it was? So obsessed with the strength the nobility inherently possessed that I could acknowledge no other?

I knew the correct question was not had I, but did I still?

I knew I did.

Where, then, did that leave me?

Rukia swept the door open in that precise instant, Kurosaki trailing behind her. "Nii-sama, you've been working too much lately," she announced.

I stared at her, nonplussed. "Rukia, why are you here?"

"No particular reason," she said, waving a hand vaguely. "Only I've just come from the bar and wanted to be sure you're not working too hard. You've kept yourself in here for days."

"That is none of your concern." The words sounded hollow, but so many of mine did, I hardly thought she would take note.

"Oi, Rukia, just get to the _point_," Kurosaki muttered.

"Shut up," she shout-whispered as she stomped on ryoka's instep.

Already, I was terribly bored of their antics. "What is it, Rukia?" The determinedly flat, yet irritated gazed fixed itself on her features, forcing her quickly to recalcitrant obedience.

"Well, like I said, we've just left the bar, where Kiyone and Rangiku are _beyond _wasted." She snorted slightly, as if in disgust.

As if she hadn't been in similar situations countless times before.

"Would you mind checking up on her? I'm a bit worried, what with how much she was drinking, if she'll manage getting home or not."

I did not frown, but I did stare blankly at her—a tactic that worked gratifyingly well on errant shinigami—attempting to lull her into conveying the things she obviously was trying to refrain from speaking. For example, why me in particular?

Rukia, however, _did _frown at my lack of a real response. "Well? Will you do this favor for your sister or not, Nii-sama?"

I stood immediately, my stare transforming into a careful analysis of her face and voice. She knew I would not refuse a request phrased in just such a way, if only because the remaining tatters of my integrity could not bear refusal. But she hardly ever took advantage of that weakness. She plotted and I wanted to know why.

Her face revealed nothing however and I was slightly disappointed that she was, at long last, mastering the noble mask. I didn't even bother nodding and merely swept out of the pristine office.

xXx

The bar was not nearly as loud as I anticipated. I supposed there was something gratifying in that. It meant fewer individuals would reside inside. Upon entering, my eyes almost automatically sought out the figure of the blonde fukutaichou.

_Use her name, coward_, a voice in my mind whispered.

But she was there, sitting at the bar and ordering the bartender—in a very slurred voice—to serve two more drinks, one for her and one for the sobbing Kiyone beside her. The barkeep refused as it was more than obvious the two had had far too much already.

"A_nother_ one," she barked. "No, two. For Kiyone."

When the bartender made to move to retrieve the requested beverages, she decided to take matters into her own hands, standing up to obtain the bottles herself. Unfortunately, wasted as she was, all she managed was to fall forward.

I did not even think, sheer reaction placed me at her side, catching her as she tried to fall. I looked her straight in the eyes and asked her the most logical question I could think of. "Do you need to be walked home, Matsumoto?"

She exploded, shouting and swearing and gesticulating wildly. At her volume and state of drunkenness, I was unable to understand every word, though I managed a few key concepts.

"—stop thinking about you and then you have the _gall_ to show up—"

_What?_

"—you'd never care in real life. No, in real life I'm just a rough, _uncouth_, loud, exhib—"

So she _had _overheard that part. I resisted the urge to sigh. Part of me wished I hadn't bothered coming. Except that it clearly distressed her and for a reason I could not name, _that _bothered me.

"—you're a coward."

My whole body froze at that particular pronouncement. _Coward_. The word echoed around my mind, over and over. Was I?

"—I'm so off my face that I think you're _here_ and that you _care_—"

Did I? I didn't think I was ready to answer that question yet. Still I found it odd that I was apparently a hallucination.

"—I am _not_ going through The Stage."

It took a moment for my mind to comprehend her final utterance. Actually, it took a few moments and I was still digesting the meaning. My brain automatically ordered my mouth to continue on however and I spoke into the silence.

"Is that all?"

"Yeah, that about it," she slurred.

And then she threw up on me, promptly passing out in my arms.

The _Stage_? _She _wasn't? Was it even possible? I shuddered to think… Was I truly the object of female desire in the Seireitei? Though such a ranking befit a noble, I was only disgusted by my apparent popularity. I was apparently an unwilling object of lust… much as Matsumoto was.

I hated how it was yet another commonality, another bond I was forced to share with her. How dare she be someone I could admire? That she be _likeable _when I wanted only to dismiss her? I looked down at the woman in my arms, reeking of vomit and wanted to be disgusted. I found it odd that I was not. After all, was it not I who had driven her here in the first place through my own actions? I could not blame her for a chain of events I had begun.

She was determined to not go through the Stage? I approved of the sentiment.

Still, she reeked. It was time I brought her home. Frowning, I decided Hitsugaya-Taichou's house would be the best place of delivery. Glancing over at the also passed out Koutetsu, I decided I probably ought to transport her to a home of some sort also. Somewhat vindictively, I selected Ukitake's home as a preferred location.

xXx

"_Byakuya-sama," a voice nudged me conscious in the cold dawn. "Byakuya-sama, what are you doing?"_

"_I am doing what must be done. What has always been done to insure everyone's proper place."_

"_And what is my place, Byakuya-sama? Do you remember?"_

"_By my side," I answered, grasping her hand tightly. I knew the answer she was looking for, but I refused to acknowledge it._

"_My place is in the streets," she chided. "I died and was placed there. I am a woman who abandoned her own sister. And yet you love me. Who then, determines place?"_

"_That boy deserved his fate," I replied in an typical monotone. "He was weak and the weakness cost his team. He should know his place."_

"_He was also your superior, Byakuya-sama. Isn't that a place you should acknowledge?"_

_I did not stiffen, merely turning to face her. "Only when it is properly earned."_

"_Oh? And what is proper to you? I think you'll find your standards higher than realistically possible. After all, I don't meet them."_

_I stared at her, looking straight into her gentle smile. I found I did not yet have a response to give her._

_She sighed. "Your problem isn't propriety, Byakuya-sama. It's pride."_

_Ignominious though it was, I was still staring._

"_It's not that they're not good enough. It's that you wouldn't even know what to do if they were. Because if your rules about nobility are shattered, what do you have to believe in?"_

_The words meant nothing to me then. Suddenly, I was finding that they did now._

_Hisana…_

xXx

When I approached the grave, Matsumoto was already there, standing before it. She was murmuring, speaking as if to Renji himself. "Ah, what d'you care? You're dead, I can remember you as much as I want. You're beyond my help."

"Fukutaichou." I announced my presence behind her.

"Kuchiki-Taichou." She didn't look at me or even turn her head.

An awkward silence ensued as I realized she was remembering the previous evening's events. _I _was remembering the words she had overheard me uttering. It made me… uncomfortable.

"You had something to show me," I said, attempting to move past the moment.

"Hmm? Oh! Oh, yes. Of course. I did. Um…" She trailed off, clearly flustered, before turning to look at me at last—through those beautiful lashes in that way that always stopped me cold.

Something not even my denial could manage to negate.

"Follow me?"

"Is that a question?" Amusement might have leaked through. Once one crack in the mask appears, others soon follow.

"No, it's not," she answered, blustering on. "Follow me, then. Unless you wanted to talk to Renji?"

It was an indication of how serious I was taking this, that I truly considered her suggestion. Perhaps there were yet some things I needed to say. And yet, I felt no inclination for words. I did not think he needed to hear them. As Matsumoto had said, he was dead. Ignoring the mental twinge that admission cost me, I admitted that he couldn't hear what I had to say. This particular moment could wait yet.

"I've said all that can be said to him. Lead on, fukutaichou."

Without another word, she took off, leading me through the Rukongai. We took the rooftops, I supposed to avoid curious stares and the like. I felt, strangely, that I was intruding upon something private. As if this was suddenly a situation I should not be in and the awkwardness only increased as we progressed. Still, there was no tactful way to bow out and I was interested in this second grave that, somehow, was not at a cemetery.

When she finally did come to a halt, it was in front of an apple tree that looked as if it should be dead. Or, at least cut into decent firewood. There were a few apples scattered amongst the branches and even fewer around it on the ground, most of them small and slightly shriveled in appearance. Just to the left of the tree was a tiny shack I had trouble believing was real. It did not appear as if it could withstand even a breath of wind. And besides that, it did not seem that even one person could stand in it comfortably, let alone live in it. It was dirty and clearly old and I wondered how the thing had survived. The oddest part of the scenario, however, was the zanpakutou stabbed straight through the trunk of the apple tree. It thrust all the way to the hilt, blade protruding out the other side.

"Well. This is it." Her voice struggled to catch or waver.

"Whose grave?" I asked, still not understanding. The whole arrangement seemed convoluted and unnecessary.

She blinked at me before smiling hugely. "Mine, of course."

I decided there must be more than the obvious to this grave if only because she clearly wasn't dead yet. Though I had no idea what that something more could have been.

"This is where Gin and I used to live," she explained. "He found me out there—" her hand waved backwards towards empty, dead wasteland. "—and brought me back here. He climbed that tree and brought me apples. He stole blankets for me and let me take the best corner of the shack."

I shuddered to think of the closeness the two had obviously shared. They had grown up together. And yet, despite that… "And then he betrayed you."

She shrugged easily, letting the comment pass easily. "There was a lot more to Ichimaru Gin then that betrayal." Abruptly, she changed the subject, moving to something more mundane. Safer? "What's it like? Being a taichou."

I considered that. "Irritating."

She giggled. It was a strange sound. Though maybe I was simply unused to hearing it. "You sound like _my_ taichou." She paused a moment. "Actually, you sound like all taichou. Why is it so annoying?"

"Incompetence…irritates me."

"You're Division isn't incompetent. In fact, I'd say it's probably the most well-ordered Division of them all. You should stop being so harsh on people."

Why didn't it surprise me that Matsumoto would think I was being harsh on people? But that I was a reflex thought and I stemmed it, trying instead to concentrate on her words. I did not believe I could truly _not _be harsh. What else would I become? Was it a judgment she cast?

"What would you prefer, fukutaichou?" he asked finally. "That I preach justice and honor in the same way as Tousen? Tease them like Ichimaru, coddle them as Aizen did?"

Her answer was quick and without hesitation. "You are not going to betray them. Are you?"

Now that statement was a double-edged sword. As well as the million-dollar question. I smiled bitterly, the whole of that emotion pulling free of the mask. Some emotions ran too deep to hide and to close to the surface to properly mask. "I have done a great deal of evil things in the name of good, fukutaichou. I would not intentionally betray them, but I can no longer say whether or not that is enough."

She turned to me, reply still easy and quick. I think I envied the self-assurance. "It's strange. You're a man who has every reason to be confident in his status and abilities, yet you have the lowest self-esteem of anyone I've ever met. Except for perhaps Momo, but she has a good excuse."

I had every reason to be confident? Since when? I failed to kill Gin, failed to protect my sister. So many failures and I have every reason for confidence? I could not excuse them and I had trouble understanding how she could. "Nearly murdering my sister for the sake of the law is not a good excuse?" My answer may have been a tad sarcastic in nature.

"Oh, get over it," she snapped, apparently finally annoyed. "That was over a decade ago and everyone involved has _forgiven_ you. You're not doing yourself any favors by wallowing in it."

There was no dignified way to reply to that, so I did not deign to give one.

"You so are," she responded to my silence.

"I am not." Nobility does not _wallow_.

"You are! 'Oh, woe is me, I made a mistake!' Lots of people do it, with more regularity then you ever did. No harm came from it. In fact, quite a bit of good came from it."

I pondered the truth of that conclusion. It did make partial degrees of sense. "What mistakes did you make, Matsumoto?"

She gesticulated toward the meager shack for emphasis. "I trusted Gin. No one trusted Gin. He was fun to be around if he liked you and he really was a good taichou. But he wasn't to be trusted."

My mind spoke before I had a chance to better edit my statements, correcting her self-deprecating assessment. "You saved a great many lives with that trust, Matsumoto."

It was her turn to gaze at me in surprise. "Wh-what?"

I was oddly pleased by the change of place within the conversation. "You trusted that Ichimaru wouldn't kill you. You went out to meet him, distract him, taunt him. What's more, you did try to kill him." I stared at the panorama laid out in front of me, remembering my own battle against the fox-faced villain. _I was weak. _"You did what was required of you and even more than what was expected."

"Ichimaru's whore, yes?" She grinned, amused by the thought.

"Something like that."

"It's strange. No one ever called Renji names when they thought Rukia had betrayed us, and he did exactly the same as I did."

There were two good reasons for that. One, sexist as it was, Matsumoto was female and Renji was not. Two… "The relationship between Renji and my sister was quite different from that of yours and Ichimaru's."

She laughed, surprisingly amused by my conclusion. "Oh dear. You're one of those people who think Gin and I were lovers, aren't you?"

"I'm not." Admittedly, it would make my explanation more cogent, but I did not think a lover would have been so easy to let go. Then again, this woman's strength was constantly greater than I expected.

She wasn't laughing anymore though. Rather, she blinked and stared at me a bit. "Sorry?"

"I am aware that you and Ichimaru were not lovers. I went to the Academy with the two of you. Some friendships turn into more. Yours was not one of them. But Renji and Rukia had not spoken since Rukia was adopted into my family and Renji was in love with Rukia, although she never knew it."

She smiled gently, pleased by my conclusion. _Why? _"I'm glad you knew the truth. The dynamic between Gin and I was always easy to decipher if you just looked at it properly." She sighed. "Rukia never knew how Renji felt."

"Never thought to guess." It had been one of the few amusing things in my lifetime within the Kuchiki family. My next thought softened the humour, however. "She was enamored with Shiba Kaien from the moment she met him."

"Jealous?" she queried, a teasing note to her voice.

"I was, although not for the reasons you're intimating." From the very beginning, I had been denied my opportunities to attain her affection, or, in fact, see much of her at all. "She spent a great deal of time with Shiba and his wife," I continued in explanation. And I had very much wanted to know the sister of the woman I had loved, even if I could never properly show it.

"Time that she wouldn't spend with you," she guessed. "Is that why you were so angry at Ukitake-taichou when Kaien died?"

Angry, unfortunately, was a relatively mild term for my reaction. I had barely spent any time with the girl in comparison, and already, her heart had broken? I had forgotten how much of the guilt Ukitake himself always carried. It was part of the weight of years he shouldered, I suspected. "Killing Shiba nearly ruined Rukia. I'm afraid that I said many things which should not have said to Ukitake-taichou, when he was feeling guiltier than I ever could."

"Guilty?" She looked at me with raised eyebrows. "You felt guilty?"

I knew I was a subtle man. As one of the nobility, the ability to hide my thoughts had been ingrained since I was a child. But this was a thing even I would have considered obvious about myself. "Of course. Rukia is my sister, adopted or not. It is my job to protect her, and I failed miserably in that."

She seemed to think about that for a moment before speaking. "She would have had to face something like that eventually."

I was not certain I understood the implication.

"Everyone comes up against that one death that decides their future as a shinigami. I miss Kaien horribly, of course I do, but he was going to die anyway. His fate was decided the moment he went up against that hollow alone. And when he died, Rukia didn't give up or quit." She sighed, and bizarrely, it was a happy sound. "It's nice to know something good came out of his death."

"You…have an odd way of looking at things." I had difficulty comprehending how death of a loved one could be considered happy or beneficial. It was simply loss.

"Do I really? Well, I do spend a lot of time with Eleventh Division…although, not so much in recent years." She looked straight into my eyes. "Are you sure it's not you who has an odd way of looking at things?"

I could not stand staring into those clear eyes for too long. There was too much truth in them and I was unsure as to whether I was ready for it. "Mayhap."

Another silence descended and I was almost grateful for it. I was surprised to concede that on top of her other gifts, she clearly had a decent mind. It brought back another conversation I knew I needed to have.

"You overheard my conversation with Ukitake."

In my peripheral vision, I noted that she was indeed blushing. So she _was _embarrassed.

"Uh…well…you've been stalking me!"

I raised my eyebrow at her, almost daring her to reiterate the concept.

"Yes you have! Everywhere I turned, there you were – and then you _stopped._"

I shrugged that off and returned to the reason I had raised the subject in the first place. "I would like to apologize."

"E-eh?"

"I should not have said those things about you."

She looked down at her feet, not quite ashamed, not quite embarrassed.

I did not want to admit that it was even a little beautiful. Or captivating.

"Well, it's not like you were wrong. I mean, I'm not in love with my taichou," she corrected hastily. "But those others things? That's who I am. And if you don't like that… well… actually, I have no threat to make, because I don't know what you want."

Her words struck a chord. "That, then, would make two of us." Because, I was just beginning to realize that somehow, I was no longer disgusted by the idea of her.

I did not know if I loved her or was ready to pursue her or risk my family being unleashed on her, but somehow, I found that I did not mind being near her.

I had crossed a line. And, even if it was only in my head, I did not mind.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Oh my. Am I... Am I updating? Bet you thought after three years, I'd be gone for good right? Nope, just hit the WORST writer's block of all time. Plus, graduating college (among other things). I'd like to say I'm back and better than ever, but I'd hate to disappoint you. Let's just say I'm not quitting my stories (well, at least not this one or utter chaos) and eventually I'll post again. Well, for those of you still out there anyway. ...ARE any of you still out there? -whimper- Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter! I've had half of it done forever and finally managed to push past the last half today. Love all you guys!

* * *

I wondered what would ever occur—or really, how the looming apocalypse would destroy the Seireitei—if it was ever to be discovered how much I absolutely loathed Council meetings. There are benefits and respect about being a noble, especially of the esteemed Kuchiki clan, but sometimes I find myself wondering if it was just the members of the clan who did _not _get those benefits who decided to set up the Council, just to add to their nonexistent importance. Over the years, the heir apparent had also been dragged into the entangled mess and it became something of a puffed up fad amongst the noble clans. Those on the Council considered themselves quite prominent and frequently engaged in political scheming with their brethren and opposing councils. Occasionally, someone with minimal amounts of sense actually became involved (usually against their will) and the Council would become slightly more bearable, but typically, the unlucky individual was intelligent enough to escape eventually, leaving the heir, in this case, myself, stuck in lethargic boredom for several hours at far too frequent intervals.

"Byakuya-sama, we have come to the main issue at hand. For years you have been an excellent heir, bringing the Kuchiki name great honour and glory. You have risen to captain level faster than many nobles in our clan's history. Your strength and determination has made our clan one of the strongest. There is one last responsibility that you have yet to fulfill for us."

The man's voice was lordly and booming and I had the strangest feeling that if I drew my sword on him, it could just as easily turn simpering and begging. I ignored the twitch encouraging that decision and focused instead on exuding no particular emotion at all. The man's name was Kuchiki Naroyukou. He even resembled outside the weasel he truly was with a hooked nose and this odd twitch in the corner of his left eye for every time he felt he had the upper hand in a speech or conversation.

I was also getting this strange feeling that Rangiku was influencing my thought processes. Though I had never particularly enjoyed Council meetings, I didn't quite recall being this tempted to perform violent retribution upon the irksome characters before (with one possible exception).

"Byakuya-sama, the Kuchiki clan needs an heir," Naroyukou continued. He was warming up to his subject and determinedly working his way up to an explosive speech. "We know that you were married once before—"

Glances exchanged between other members clarified the extent of feeling regarding that union. I could feel a slow burn of anger pushing past the inevitable irritation.

"—But that did not provide the requisite heir. The Council has been patient, allowing for grief and passage of time in a way that was exceedingly patient and more than reasonable."

Heads nodded with varying degrees of eagerness around the group, some realizing the dangerous ground they were treading and others much less aware.

_A nasal-voiced man named Kuchiki Nakayama led the group in confronting me. I was tired, but my supreme control of the noble mask was absolute and nothing trickled onto my face or out through any type of body language. The death of_—_my mind simply could not wrap around the name_—_had ripped through my world leaving it empty and dull, but more than that, just a place of constant reminders. Every carefully considered turn of my head gave me a fresh view of place we spent together and memories of her at my side. So, the man addressing me held little meaning to me. At least, at first._

"—_we still don't have a new heir to our clan. Though we feel for your loss—"_ _though his pompous voice denied the claim utterly "—we find it necessary to remind you of your responsibility to us and to our future."_

_I stirred from the well of misery well nigh drowning me to register what the highly offensive man was on the brink of suggesting. I stood up quicker than I have perhaps ever moved and made little note of it besides._

"_Now that she is gone, the Council is of the mind that you remarry a more proper choice and produce an—"_

_The words never finished spilling over the fool's bloated lips._

_I fully focused the cold of the Kuchiki glare on his suddenly frightened eyes, weighing him down with the push of his own worthlessness. He stuttered into silence and stared at me for a few moments before daring to open his mouth yet again. Pity._

"_The Kuchiki clan needs an heir. We have a-a selection of much more appropriate choices to assist you in this duty."_

_I said nothing, merely continued to level my gaze at him for several seconds._

_Discomfited by my lack of a response, Nakayama tried yet again. "You have neglected your clan long enough in favor of _that woman_. Now is the time to—"_

_The ring of steel filled the room, effectively cutting off his offensive sniveling. I drew Senbonzakura and felt her warm aura flow up through, just as intensely angered as I._

"_Senbonzakura," I hissed into the shocked silence as my zanpakutou split into its myriad pieces, immediately converging on the cringing Nakayama. There was a momentary pause before they connected with flesh, slicing and cutting._

_Nakayama screamed and flopped into a pathetic pile of blood and soul on the floor. He wasn't dead, I was careful about that. Just enough to teach him some respect._

_I sheathed my sword. "Are there any other issues the Council would like to bring to my attention?" My hand had not yet left the hilt._

_Needless to say, there weren't._

Since that event, the Council had known better than to broach that particular subject again. And then, of course, Rukia had finally been found, only a few short years after Hisana's death. I was satisfied with her as the new heir after me, but the clan was not. They had settled for the moment, but I knew they had just been biding their time. They had waited much longer than I thought possible (given their natural impatience), but I saw no need to hurry the discussion along. I was less interested in an heir now than ever, considering my fascination with Rangiku. I hadn't really seen her since our visit to the graves and had had little time to consider much of what she'd told me. Mostly, I had been mulling over the surprising change of my own emotions. I no longer found her to be an offensive degenerate. And, more than that, I was not ashamed to think so. In fact, the more I thought about the matter, the less I truly understand how I could have ignored for so long all the qualities she possessed that mystified and intrigued me.

I knew that Hisana would not have liked how I had dealt with the situation. In truth, I myself had not particularly approved, except that, in my grief, I did not have as complete a control over myself and my mask. Hisana would have wanted what was best for me. And she had never interacted well with other members of the family.

Somehow, I knew that Rangiku would not only have approved of what I had done, she would have applauded it. I could also see her staring them all down and adding that she found them to be stuffy old geezers to boot. I turned back to the new annoying voice on the Council, Naroyukou, who was returning to what had essentially been an unspoken forbidden topic.

"We also know that Rukia was adopted into our midst. However, there are none present who do not know of her position as a commoner. You are at the peak of your power and it makes the most sense to capitalize on that while we can in terms of the next heir. Now, none of us dislike Rukia—"

Though it was interesting to note that this topic had been broached on one of the few council meetings that Rukia was not required to attend.

"—but it's still true that you would produce a much better heir and one still of the Kuchiki bloodline. What we are asking is nothing more than your final duty to your clan and your family."

I turned to give my full attention to Naroyukou, weighing him down with my blank glare.

"Naroyukou. There is an heir to the Kuchiki. I shall take your advice into consideration, but remember that she comes first, whether the Council approves or not." And then, as only the heir can truly do, I turned my back towards him and ignored him. "Chiaki. Are there any real items of business to consider today?"

The only member with some sense on the Council, it was most reasonable to address her in this matter.

Chiaki looked me straight in the eyes, responding, "No, Byakuya-sama." Though the expression on her face never changed, I did see the slight twinkle that flickered through her eyes.

Nodding to her, I swept out of the room, leaving behind a chill of reiatsu just in case they believed I had not noticed the offense dealt to Rukia. It was a more subtle warning, but one none of them would miss.

xXx

I knelt uncomfortably before Hisana's shrine. It had been… longer than usual since my last visit. I felt a certain solemnity here that I was often unable to find elsewhere. It was a reminder to me, not only of everything she was, but everything I was.

Humility.

I suppose I'd never really identified the feeling before, so caught up in pride. Pride of the clan, pride of nobility, pride in my own skill and position as captain. So it was strange to me to kneel before a shrine and admit to myself that I had not been enough. Not enough as a husband and not enough to stop Ichimaru.

I wondered retrospectively what had happened to my denial. It had been my constant shield and companion since I had first begun to reason. Perhaps, I continued in a detached manner, the acknowledgement, however subtle and ignored it might be, that I _did _admire the strength Rangiku exuded had managed to break through the other shackles as well.

There was a part of me that still loved Hisana. I imagined that that would never truly end. But I was no longer dominated by her loss and by the love she never felt for me.

She would want there to be a happiness in my life. I would have told her Rukia brought me enough happiness. The way she grew stronger, both in the clan and amongst the Gotei 13 was impressive. She was learning to handle herself, not only as a shinigami, but as an adult. Year by year, she acted more and more as a Kuchiki, yet retained that stubborn streak of dating the Kurosaki brat. I was growing to appreciate more and more her adaptation and dual roles—maintaining her roots and sense of self while adapting to the demands of being Kuchiki heir.

Hisana's voice whispered to me that I was being foolish. Happiness is not gained only through the growth and success of a single person.

It felt, oddly, as though I had finally garnered permission (through her or myself?) to open myself to new possibilities. There was potential freedom to be acknowledged and explored.

Yet, having lived so long trapped by rules and limitations, I found myself unwilling to truly consider the idea of being free.

I ignored Hisana's commentary on that thought, offering my farewell.

xXx

If it had been some time since I had spoken to Hisana, it had been longer still since I had observed my fukutaichou training the division. After a day or so of meditating somewhat excessively on the conversation with Rangiku, I decided that I had given the matter more that enough thought.

I forewent warning Rikichi of my impending arrival and simply slipped onto the sidelines. The training had already started inside the 6th division training grounds. Zanjutsu predominated today it seemed and Rikichi was wandering amongst various partnered shinigami and offering advice and further instruction.

I frowned slightly at the odd mood of conviviality I was observing. It wasn't quite as relaxed as the drinking company at the bar but the overtones or distinct friendliness were unmistakable.

Rikichi smiled at a particular pair of unseated shinigami as the smaller, compact one pulled a tricky grip change on her zanpukutou and broke her opponent's stance.

"Good, good, Araki-san, you're getting better at that move all the time! Now if Daisuke-kun here could correct his footwork to match you, we'd be getting somewhere."

Daisuke proffered the requisite abashed look for his stumble. It looked a bit bizarre on his craggy and admittedly not attractive features but still seemed to suit him. "I'll keep practicing Rikichi-fukutaichou."

With a brief nod and a smile, Rikichi moved on. "All right everybody! Change up sparring partners! Don't want to get too used to fighting one person…"

Everyone separated and split smoothly, clearly quite used to this procedure. It was very little time before the clanging of zanpakutou began again, echoing louder than I might have expected to my ears.

While the quality of the training appeared equivalent to what I had observed in the past, the manner was different enough to give me significant pause. I watched for close to an hour, unsure how I could have missed these differences in the passage of time. Was I really so surprised that a division behaved differently in front of its taichou?

I supposed I should not, but the real difference was in the persona of Rikichi-fukutaichou. What could have engendered the contrast between the nerve-wracked and messy vice I was most familiar with and this calm leader before me?

I watched the sparring, nursing such thoughts without reaching any solid conclusions, when my thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the eighth division's fukutaichou. She strolled in much the way I had and walked directly up to me.

"Kuchiki-Taichou." Her tone made the words a greeting and she examined with a strangely evaluative look.

"Ise-Fukutaichou. May I ask what brings you to sixth division training grounds?"

She didn't answer immediately, instead continuing to stare at me.

I was less than interested in being discovered covertly watching my own division and so I found myself absent my usual patience. I skipped over the usual pleasantries and jumped abruptly to the well-known impenetrable stare that nobles—the Kuchiki family in particular—used quite adeptly as a mild intimidation tactic.

"I've just seen Matsumoto-fukutaichou."

She paused long enough for the words to register. Surprise spun inside and I wondered why on earth she was approaching me with this knowledge—whatever it was.

"She seemed quite upset." Her words were uttered with careful precision, delicately chosen. "In fact, she's falling apart. I think it would be a good idea for you to go see her. She's in her room, of course."

For a moment, my body was frozen by her words. My mask of nobility, for a moment, was gone and I had no clear idea what showed on my face. Falling apart?

My voice was quite rusty when at last I called on it. "Me? And why should I go see her? It seems this would be a matter for the tenth division." My feet seemed to made of air and lead simultaneously. _Is this how a noble should react?_

"I have no idea what gives me this impression, but I think you would be the only one to get through to her right now, Kuchiki-Taichou. Actually, the sooner the better, I think."

I had no idea what would give her that impression either, but I was so disconcerted by her other words that the discrepancy seemed to slip right past me.

"I will look into the matter Ise-Fukutaichou." The words exited my lips mechanically and my feet moved with a wooden precision. My mind functioned in a whirl, confused by own contrasting urges and desires. And while I flickered and fluctuated, unsure even of what my thoughts were, my feet took me directly to her barracks.

I didn't even hesitate; I opened the door and stepped inside and saw her sitting on her floor.

All thoughts of nobility, of Rikichi, Renji, Hisana and the uncouth nature of the lower class evaporated.

The moment crystallized and everything except Rangiku sitting on that floor and me, standing just inside the doorway, disappeared. She was curled up next to the bed, but not on it, broken bits of chocolate on the floor around her. Her blonde hair lay in slightly mussed waves as miniature waterfall down her back, framing the whiteness of her face and the bright shining of her eyes.

As soon as her eyes reacted to my presence, latching onto my face, she lurched forward and grabbed onto me, one hand tightly wound into my haori. The light of unshed tears finally broke over and she sobbed into my shoulder.

Ise-fukutaichou was right. Rangiku was falling apart. I was witness to the pieces splintering and, inexplicably, I didn't want that to happen. I reached my hand up to cradle her head and held her closer as if my hand could force the pieces together.

It was good that I had because she broke under my fingertips.


End file.
